on the corner of 40th and market

I believe I may seen a man die today on the corner of 40th and Market. I was walking to the El and saw a crowd of people standing around watching an EMT desperately pumping on a man’s chest. I went over to one of the onlookers and he told me that the man had collapsed in front of a nearby Daycare Center. Some people had helped him back up and the man said that he was fine but he barely made it across the street before he collapsed again. At that point, everyone figured it was a heart attack.

By the time I turned the corner towards the El, an EMT was frantically pounding on his chest, trying to reawaken the man’s once beating heart. They had apparently already used paddles to shock him alive, but he still lay there and the EMT kept on pounding. After they loaded him or his body into the ambulance, another man came over and told us that the man was dead, that when they shocked him his body seized up with the electricity but his eyes looked hollow, fixed on the same blank point off in the distance. “That man’s dead, he’s with God now! It doesn’t take more than a second, when He calls you that’s it!” We just shook our heads. “It’s a damn shame.”

When they pulled the man off the ground, the EMT was still pumping on his chest, pausing only so they could place the body onto a gurney. I couldn’t tell you if there was still any hope left that he’d come back, or if the EMT was simply persisting for show or for ritual. I suppose, there’s still some slim chance the man may yet be alive, fighting for his life in some hospital somewhere but even still, it seems that in all likelihood that man died on the corner of 40th and Market today and we were all standing by him when he passed.

Now I can make no claims to know anything more about him than what I experienced for about 10 minutes this morning, I don’t know whether or not he was good man or a bad man, whether he went to church or had a wife, or even if I would’ve thought to talk to him if I had seen him alive and well on that same street corner. And yet, he is one of us, a part of what we are, and today he may have gone from this life just as we all one day will go. I offer all respect to his life as I offer respect to that life that courses through all of us.

Death is a hard thing but it is also nothing at all, just a change of seasons. The only real meaning that I can see in death is the necessity to make meaning in life, to appreciate it and to appreciate those you share it with. If I did watch that man die today, I know that he died surrounded by people who in that instance appreciated him, who knowing nothing about him, wanted more than anything for him to pull through, for him to wake up and to be alright. Those people will remember him, and will talk about the time they spent with him as I’m doing right now. As heavy as this shit may be, it is a blessing that he did not die alone and it is a blessing that his life and passing will not be soon forgotten. For those of us who happened upon him this morning, the corner of 40th and Market will bear a new significance and the worn streets of this city will swell with the holy weight of yet another ghost.

To that man, body, or ghost, I wish you all my respect and my love. May your way before you be blessed and may peace be upon you always.

germ ross.

requiem for a wolf

The following piece was originally printed in Wonkavision Magazine. The interview alluded to was ultimately never compiled into a published feature due to technical problems along the way as well as my own eventual realization that its content was severely compromised by the language gap between myself and the members of Guitar Wolf. While it’s possible that I may one day revisit the interview, for now, this piece is all that I would really like to publish in the immediate wake of Billy’s death.
- germ ross.

On March 31st, 2005, Guitar Wolf bassist/founding member Hideaki Sekiguchi—known as Billy or Basswolf—experienced heart failure at his home in Japan and died quietly in his sleep, placing the future of the celebrated garage punk act into question.

Earlier that month, I had the chance to talk with the band, before their furious set at Philly’s North Star Bar. Sent to conduct an interview for the webzine Deep Fry Bonanza, I wandered between label people for some time before arriving backstage to find a triumvirate of well-seasoned rockers looking forward, no doubt, to finishing another awkward, partially-understood American interview.

My questions were basically stabs at trying to understand what the hell Guitar Wolf was; how it was that these three people could do—in all seriousness—what they do? In the cold cruel world of the indie scene, there are more than a few critics who’d say that their unsophisticated breed of rock was as much a throwback to bygone times as their leather jackets and pompadours. And yet they believed it, and they made us believe it. When they were on stage, they weren’t human; they were Wolves; they were living, breathing ROCK AND ROLL!

Throughout the interview we discussed the differences between LoveRock and their previous releases, the highlights of their tribute album We Love Guitar Wolf; I even got Billy—God Bless ‘im—to banter approvingly about gay-sex and cyborgs. It was an ok conversation but it wasn’t what I was looking for: namely, something beyond than their larger-than-life persona. That didn’t come until later when, pacing backstage, frontman Seiji admitted to having stage-fright. In just moments, he would rip apart the stage like a man possessed, but now… he was nervous. To see them, this would be hard to believe. It would be hard to believe that these three were anything other than the superheroes they claimed to be, impervious to pain, self-doubt, or human frailty. The passing of Billy just reemphasizes that as much as they could convince us otherwise, they were indeed just men, mortals like the rest of us. Godspeed, kids.

seiji, billy, and me. march 2005. picture taken by matt hurst.

how you (and your cred) can survive your office job on market street

I’m a corporate intern. I work in a tall shiny building on Market Street, nevermind which one. I share a half-open cubicle with an0ther intern. And perhaps I’m the only one who has these problems at my office job – palpable boredom, a dwindling arsenal of “quick-look-busy” activities, and an overwhelming sense of shame whenever I run into a bike messenger, or anyone else who I feel has a “real,” respectable job. Well, I may be – okay, unquestionably am – working for the man, and I may not have a blurry Black Flag tattoo on my ankle that I got when I was 14 (like the nice bike messenger I met on the elevator yesterday), but I’m still a rocker, and dammit, rockers cram as much punk rock as they can into every day, even if it’s the 9 to 5 kind.

So if your job is anything like mine, these handy tricks and tips might be useful for keeping busy, keeping under the radar, and keepin’ it real on Market Street.

1. Steal office supplies. It’s good, and good for you! Be creative: manilla folders are the perfect level of sturdiness to make into stencils. Then you can tag the building with the stencil you made from THEIR supplies! Vandalism, you say? Krylon me a river, bossman.
2. Score some free merch. Use your office’s blank address labels to make stickers for your band, zine, record label, bad self, etc. You can draw on them directly or use microsoft word. Now that’s what I call stickin’ it to the man!
3. Post-It Note flipbooks. Try submitting your creations to Space 1026; maybe you can get into next year’s flipbook festival!
4. Make copies. Never stop making copies. When you run out of things to copy, create new things. This is a good time to write a zine, design holiday cards, join a street team, or start making flyers for Agnew. Also, if you silkscreen, this is a great way to take advantage of otherwise expensive copying. You might even be able to snag 11 x 17 sheets of acetate from the supply room. The printmakers at the Athenaeum will be soo jealous.
5. Join the staff of a webzine. Banter, banter, banter.

Safety tips:
1. Turn the sound off. This is critical. What happens if you accidentally start playing an mp3 while browsing the Relapse Records site?
2. Keep your monitor office-friendly. Always have something official looking open on your screen – preferably an excel spreadsheet with lots of numbers in it. Remember, when it comes to people looking over your shoulder, numbers are good; Phillyshreds.com message boards are bad.
3. Remain inconspicuous. Keep your desk cluttered as fuck. That way it’ll be less noticeable if some anti-social literature gets mixed into the official stuff.
4. Cover your tracks. Never forget to clear your internet cache and delete cookies before leaving at the end of the day. Otherwise, your employer can, and probably will find out that you’ve actually spent most of the day leaving threatening messages for Scott Beiben on the Lost Film Fest site. Just because you’re living 9 to 5 doesn’t mean you can’t live off the grid.

Follow my advice, and you’re certain to cut down on the actual time you spend working at your office job. Hell, I just wasted a whole hour!

what the fuck are you fighting for? is it because you’re 5 foot 4?

I am not a large woman. In fact, the Minor Threat lyrics that comprise the title of this post are misleading – I am in fact only 5′2. I think a lot of normal-to-large sized people don’t recognize that it’s actually fairly damned difficult for “my” people to hold our own at a show. Is this because big people are simply tougher? Because small people have less flesh to consecrate to rock and roll? These reasons are silly (consider Danzig, who is smaller than you, tougher than you, and also has more flesh than you do). Also consider the fact that I personally have never been pushed down to the floor, have always managed to keep myself up, whereas people twice my size fall down and have to be helped up all the time. The reason for all of this is that the majority of small people, no matter how tough or strong or fleshy, are generally too busy supporting the antics of crazy-going big people to go crazy themselves.

If I for one minute decide to stop worrying and just throw myself at other people, I will be crushed. My larger comrades, without this worry, can basically do whatever the hell they want without fear of serious injury. So it’s up to me and my miniature friends to support them when they totally lose control and fall all over the place – not because we want to, but because we fear death. While half of my energy at a show is used to just dance around and have a good time, the other half is used to constantly watch out for damp, stinky asteroids hurtling towards me.

I’m certainly not saying that people should be having less fun in the pit, or that we should give up the element of wild abandon. I just want people to be more aware of the fun, and potential non-fun, of the Danzig-sized tribe – I’d like a taste of wild abandon, too.

back

sooo i’ve just gotten back from europe. i’ve learned to love guinness. i’ve discovered that i don’t really know french after all. i’ve seen may day celebrated properly (think a couple hundred irish punk kids having a street party in the middle of dublin, hoisting pirate flags, and putting hoods on the statues of celebrated patriots, all while being babysat by bored/nervous cops on ponies). i’ve seen so. much. stenciling. a friend (more a friend of a friend, really) came back from amsterdam back in april and was complaining about how played out the graffiti artist thing was. i was surprised to hear that coming from her, until i got to the continent. i’ll post pictures of the street art later… a lot of it’s really beautiful, actually… it’s just weird to see so much of it. i went to a couple shows that were a lot of fun, and would never happen in america… for several reasons. mainly that we didn’t spawn the sex pistols, we don’t have counties occupied by britain, and we can’t parody ourselves the way italians can. …oh, and i saw a lot of old art housed in old museums.

i kind of feel like an asshole talking about my trip too much, though… it feels too much like i’m sitting you all down in front of a slide projector and making you listen to my monotone narration of each scene. but i will post pictures soon. and then start talking about music.